Serenity Lives
by VinVal
Summary: 1.Mal doesn't like Inara. 2. Simon discovers beauty. [Snapshots of life aboard Serenity.]
1. Degrees of Honor

Author's Note: I've only seen up through Disc 3 of this wonderful series. So, that's how far canon has gotten in these drabbles.When I get past that point, I'll let you know.

These are for icedragonchilde, since it's her fault for encouraging me to watch and write Firefly fic. Don't worry, love, there will be more, these are just a warm-up. :)

I DO NOT OWN.

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**Degrees of Honor**

Mal doesn't like Inara. He will swear to the day he dies (aboard Serenity, with any luck) that he does not like that woman. It is one thing to have sex as you please (he just has to remind himself of how he met Kaylee to reaffirm this) but it is another to be paid for it. Companions are a creation of the Alliance, and since the Alliance is the epitome of human worthlessness, it doesn't seem like much of a logic jump to Mal.

Inara, however, constantly disagrees.

"If my profession bothers you so much, Mal, then why did you rent me the shuttle?" She levels at him.

"The extra opportunity," He levels back, the answer so ready on his tongue he says it before she's done speaking.

She crosses her arms, and Mal recognizes battle. "You call me a whore to my face, yet defend my honor in a swordfight, which you swear Companions hold none of."

"'Course not," He scoffs. "They don't." She raises an eyebrow. "Most of them." His mind recalls a particularly well trained one that nearly did in all of them. "Especially redheads."

"You still have not explained why we haven't hit anything other than backwater moons without clientele in weeks." She leans in, and he catches a whiff of something somewhere between incense, tea, and skin. "Are you trying to sabotage me, Mal?"

Sabotage, well. "That may be too strong of a word."

_She looks just as lovely when she's surprised_, Mal thinks before he catches himself or the full implication of his words. "Are you trying to keep me away from clientele?" She pushes out from between her teeth. "Do you want me off your ship that much?"

Oh, gorramit, that wasn't what he meant at all. "Just keepin' to honest work, that's all. You should try it sometime."

Inara laughs. In his face. "Honest work?" She shakes her head, limit reached. "Get out." She points to the door with one slender, meticulously manicured fingernail.

_Well,_ Mal thinks, _I don't like you much anyway._ _Even if you smell like all of Serenity Valley blooming._ "Shiny, just shiny." He raises his hands in mock defeat and backs out the door. "At least I didn't call you a whore this time," He tells her as he shuts the door, leaving her fuming in her den.

The next day Wash sets a course to a planet with a decent settlement, and Inara thanks Mal as they clear off the table after dinner. He grunts something about wanting to get rid of her for a few weeks, but she smiles at him anyway. There's been something bothering him about their argument, even since he realized he couldn't give her an honest answer about why they were avoiding big settlements. Of course, she interacted with the crew more when they were this far out; hell, even River seemed to like her, wandering into the shuttle whenever Inara let her. It was just nice to see her acting like a human being, that was all. Not that Mal likes the extra company, no, or dislikes the thought of her doing _work_.

His hand wanders down to the scar on his side from the sword–point, splayed out and reminding him that his gut instincts toward the woman don't show his dislike at all. He has his honor, and he supposes she has hers.

That doesn't mean he has to like her.


	2. Broken Beautiful

**Broken Beautiful**

Simon was taking stock of his narcotics to make sure Jayne wasn't abusing them when Kaylee breezed in, clutching her right palm with her opposite thumb. Simon turned and, seeing the bright droplets of blood hanging off the side of her hand, felt his heart jump into his throat. He swallowed it back down and crossed to her, wondering why Kaylee being injured seemed so much worse than say, Jayne or Mal.

"What happened?" He asked her, guiding her to the exam table and gently prying her fingers away from the wound with his own.

"Just sliced it open on a fan blade, is all," Kaylee said, settling down comfortably on the cold table. "Thought it might need a few stitches."

It was a mess. "Can you curl your fingers?" She did with a grimace. "Well, you didn't get your tendons."

"That's good?" Kaylee asked, peering in to look at it. The top of her head brushed against Simon's, and he was very aware of how close her face was.

"Um, yeah," He said, gently pushing her shoulder back. "Lean back. I need the light to see," He said with a smile. "How bad does it hurt?"

"Oh, not too bad. Had worse." Indeed, he noticed as he examined closer, her hands were callused and scarred, networks of ridged tissue dotted with discolored burn marks. Kaylee was so dedicated to Serenity, Simon realized, even though the ship practically ate her hands. She laid back and let him work, chatting at him as he sewed her palm back together. He loved the sound of her voice, jovial and completely free of pain, and he knew he was doing his job right.

His mother used to collect maps and globes; a few of the first colonized worlds, one of Earth–That–Was valued at a ridiculous amount, and carved, inlayed renditions of nearly every planet of the Core. They were colorful and delicate, kept away from Simon and River's curious fingers by glass and laser guards. He always thought they were beautiful, and that was why they were kept locked away – beautiful things would be broken by human touch.

So he marveled at Kaylee's hands. There was dirt and grease so far into the creases of her fingernails it would impossible to extract it; the nails themselves were short and chipped, discolored by bruises and vitamin deficiency; he traced her map of scars with his soft, skilled fingers and discovered that beauty was meant to be touched, even if it was filthy and bleeding and irrepressibly cheerful.

She thanked him when he was done with a smile as bright as a sun, waving good–bye with her bandaged hand. River came in a few minutes later, finding Simon sitting on the table tugging on a piece of suture thread. "They flew by the faerie moon," She told him seriously. "It was blue."

"Hey, _mei–mei_," He said. "How are you feeling?"

She eyed him. "Not sleepy."

He smiled at her, his broken but beautiful sister, and beckoned her to sit next to him. She did, and he put his arms around her. "Simon?" River said, her voice edged with panic.

"I'm fine, River," He told her. "I just wanted to hold the most beautiful girl in the settled universe." River laid her head against his chest, and Simon savored the silence, wondering if he or River needed healing more.


End file.
